Mistletroll
by Chiiharu
Summary: Mistletroll – noun – \mis-uhl-trohl\: An undesirable individual who tries too hard to corner others under the mistletoe at Christmastime. But who really is the troll here?


**A/N:** Merry Christmas, you guys! XD;;;

Even though it's like Christmas Eve and I'm a day early but so what! Most of you will be all... Doing Christmas things on Christmas day or so I hope. I'll even be marching a parade. Aren't I cool? XD;; Err, anyway, so I asked people what I should write this year for Christmas, and this is probably the first of four oneshots you'll see from me because I kinda owe people and yeaaah. XD;;; They were nice enough to ask, so I delivered! XD;; I like being busy, you know. XD;;

Anyway, I wrote this one for myself since I like pleasing myself because I'm sooo not a narcissist in any way, shape or form. XD;; It's the standard CCFA oneshot with Kohana and Atropa because reallllly I don't get to write a lot of them outside of CCFA and that pains me because I only wrote them being all silly once. XD;;; Okay, well, you could argue they do this kinda stuff in the story already but STILL! XD;; And look! I actually made this one Christmas-y!

I never write things in season! EVER! XD;;; But man, I know but baaaaah, I'm so sorry Kohana but this is just too funny and HA HA HAAAAA. XD;; That is all. XD;;

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><p><strong><span>-: Mistletroll :-<span>**

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><p>Look! There's Scrooge incarnate standing right there with her arms folded, standing defiantly.<p>

The pinkett was freezing just a few seconds ago, but now she's gotten used to the warm weather in Kohana's home. Make no mistakes though-Atropa never expected Kohana to know how to be able to keep up a house. Let alone while she was living alone, for that matter. With only a pink, knitted scarf and her authority pertaining to being the Deity of Hope and Destiny, Atropa set out to make a journey to the store to go get more tea. Because she likes tea. The amount of stares she got on her rough pilgrimage against both snow and ice were far too many. What? The people of Kohana's world have never seen a seagreen-eyed, tan pink-haired woman wearing a ruffled, dramatic long dress down to the very snow she walked across? Had they never set eyes on such a woman only wearing a scarf around her neck while bracing below-freezing temperatures?

Obviously they've all gone mad. Though Atropa almost slipped a few times she made it back alive, and that's all that matters. But now? Oh no. Now was a totally different story. She hasn't even gotten time to take off the scarf Kohana made for her. The incredulous look in her face-the way her lips are formed in a perfect one hundred and eighty degree straight line and her eyes narrowed accordingly towards the purple-haired woman in front of her... Extremely accurate. This is the face Atropa always makes at Kohana, because Kohana is an oddity and she never knows exactly what she'll get from her.

Except for stupidity.

And that's why she'll always have this face. Not amused, unwilling to believe, but more importantly... It's to brace herself for the metal wracking Kohana's sure to deliver. Kohana's confusing. Very confusing. And when it's anywhere near Christmas time, that same confusing factor that she has is upped right to eleven. For shame; Atropa's probably the only one who can take her antics. There had been something hanging up from the ceiling in the threshold of the living room-something odd. It takes a frightful amount of restraint to keep from bashing that woman's head into a wall.

A very sharp wall.

With spikes.

And cleavers.

And swords. Y'know. Just hanging around, acting cool. Totally not gonna be used for bashing Kohana's skull on sharp, inanimate objects. Totally.

At first Atropa thought it was just a random vine making its way through the house, but that didn't quite make sense. Vines grow_ on_ houses, not in them. But you can never tell with Kohana... Maybe she decided she wanted a green house in her home. With that thought in mind, one of Atropa's eyebrows cleanly raises up in a straight line as she tilts her head, looking at the white-berried foliage. She never thought the words would come out of her mouth, but they do. Crisp and sharp. "What. Is. That." There wasn't even a question mark in her voice. Everything was in that low, unforgiving tone Kohana knows all too well. And like a veteran in hearing Atropa's voice, a smile rips its way across Kohana's face and the Summoner of Time claps her hands together, taking two bouncy steps towards her partner in crime.

"Aren't you the mistletoe virgin~?" she coos, making Atropa scrunch her nose as far up as it can humanly go. Before she can verbally assault Kohana with intellectual words she'd probably just shrug off as "gibberish", the Wickedness puts her fingertips on Atropa's shoulders before floating across the room, raising her hands and gesturing towards the bunches of green stuff hanging from the ceiling. It's so odd! Atropa doesn't like its placement there. Scowling, the pinkett opens her slitted eyes and turns the other way, impatient.

"You know, plants go in vases."

"And kisses go on lips~!"

"And dead bodies go in graves."

"Errhhm..." Not coming up with a formidable retort quick enough, Kohana simply props her hand underneath her chin, stroking it with her fingers. "Well anyway!" she declares with just as much joy as she did the first time when Atropa asked her what the hanging plant was. A devious smirk dances across the purple-haired woman's face. "It'sa tradition~!" Urgh. The only thing worse than Kohana talking is hearing her try to imitate an Italian accent. And she's always so dramatic with it, too. Had Atropa had been anyone else, they'd probably be sent laughing to their graves. What with Kohana putting one hand firmly on her waist and closing those long, violet eyelashes of hers. And the way she twirled on one foot and gestured to the ugly 'decoration' still hanging above Atropa's pretty little head... It's sickening is what it is! Who would put such an terrible looking _virus_ in their house? That thing isn't a flower! It's something worse than a flower. A weed, perhaps. Atropa can't put her finger on it, but it just looks bad. It doesn't belong. That hanging bunch of fruity embellishment must be eradicated!

There's no way that thing is another embodiment of Christmas spirit. It's hideous to look at! And it's throwing Atropa's good mood all out of wack. Maybe it's some kind of energy zapper? What are those things called? Gag toys? … Yeah, those things. The things that shoot out lightning. Raising a brow, Atropa turns sideways, her eyes glued to the cursed thing. "From years and years ago!" Kohana's shoulders drop and she looks at Atropa with an upset expression—her lip poked out and quivering. "Do you even know what Christmas is?" That last sentence is probably the only one Atropa even heard. It's like everything else went out of one ear and came clean out the other. Yes... Christmas... Honestly, Atropa never really paid attention to the holidays that happened around the vast universe they live in.

There's so many to keep count of and so little time.

Plus, she could care less.

"Is that right?" Atropa challenges, closing her eyes and then opening them again. As if she doesn't care about the current topic. She would rather they talk about something else altogether. All the pinkett wanted to know about was the piece of garbage hanging from the ceiling. She'll never be able to get over the fact that... That thing isn't a flower. And yet it's hanging in Kohana's home. Atropa's home too, technically! It's just such an eyesore...! "Christmas, hmm? It's a very confusing concept, I'll admit. I don't understand how you humans do it." There Atropa goes again. Excluding herself from the mass majority. It always tickles Kohana when she does this, and so a few prideful giggles escape the Summoner of Time's lips. "So that misplaced weed is another way of you celebrating your useless tradition?" That's when Kohana got mad. Angry. Why can't Atropa just accept the fact that for once in her life, Kohana just wants to be happy?

No fighting, no wars, no nothing. Just snow and gifts.

That's how this was all supposed to go down. Hot chocolate, cookies, and television. Mmm, television. And by television, she meant rigorous work-out videos. Kohana can't let herself get out of shape; it'd destroy her already sexy image. And that image means everything to her. Regardless, Kohana folds her arms and then glances at the mistletoe a few feet in front of the two, scowling. And then she purses her lips. "It's a decoration."

"A decoration," Atropa repeats, deadpan. "A decoration, huh? My, your taste in decorations is really lacking. The ones outside trump this unsightly thing you have hanging from the ceiling. And everything else in your house looks way better than this... Abomination you call a 'decoration'. Ah, humor me more, Kohana. I don't like being lied to." Tch. Kohana sucks her teeth and then throws her arms out in the air. Well then, what the hell does Atropa want her to do? She could always lie and tell her some ridiculous myth about how mistletoe preys on the lives of unsuspecting school boys. Atropa'll never believe a single word that comes out of her mouth. Because Atropa's a stick in the mud. Really, she's deep down in there. So what if Atropa doesn't see the point of Christmas. There's absolutely nothing to see. Because you feel the magic. And the magic is there. And with those thoughts in mind, Kohana looks dramatically at the mistletoe as if it's a statue of some kind of god—her eyes sparkling and her fingers flexed.

Within two seconds, her demeanor changes. She's frowning heavily, pointing at the unamused Atropa with her index finger. "See, this is what people like you do!" she hollers, poking at Atropa's cheek with each word. She really gets to digging into it, too. The pinkett does twitch, nor does she make a move. For the first time in a while, all she does is stare blankly at Kohana and let her get away with invading her personal space. Perhaps because she thinks Kohana's angst is amusing. Which it is. "You—among with many other Scro~ooges~ suck the fun out of Christmas for everyone! Why can't you just let me have my fun, Atropa? For once in your life—stop being such a bitch and just let the mistletoe be~!" With a smirk she closes her eyes, chuckling under her breath. "No wonder you've always been alone! Ah~tropa, I don't think anyone could defrost your frozen, jerk of a heart! Yeah, that's it. Nobody wants to be around you because you're mean and don't know how to act in front of people. Why don't you go outside and get frozen with all of the other flowers?"

Kohana pauses, cackling. A frozen Atropa would look very nice in her home. "At least then I wouldn't have to hear your stupid voice!"

You know, normally Atropa wouldn't care about silly insults that leave out of Kohana's mouth, but today was a bad day. She was more or less tired, cold, and she even brought Kohana tea so she wouldn't get sick. She traveled outside in nothing but her ridiculously long, ruffled dress for that infuriating purple-haired woman's benefit and this is the thanks she gets? Right. Missile-toe. Or mistletoe. Or whatever the heck it is. Let's see how Kohana likes it when it's three inches down her throat! Dear reader, what you don't quite understand is that the Wickedness was indeed turned around, basking in her own 'brilliance'. She wanted Atropa to suffer. And she was. At the thing hanging from the ceiling, no doubt.

But not because of Kohana.

Never because of Kohana.

Furiously grabbing a shocked Kohana's shoulder and spinning her around, Atropa reaches high into the air, diplomatically yanks the green foliage down and shoves it in Kohana's mouth. The reaction the purple-haired woman gives is a natural one. First off, she wants to know what the hell Atropa just force-fed her, so she chews on it a little bit until she's hit with a wave of extreme bitterness. And then her eyes dilate. Oh yes, Atropa can see it already. "How's that mistletoe, going for you, Kohana? Can you taste the holiday cheer now?" she asks, her voice full of sarcasm. Once Kohana's greatest fears have been confirmed, she immediately spits the crunched up leaves out of her mouth and puts on a look of extreme despair and fury.

"_Ahtropa!_" she shouts, the chandelier rocking dangerously in response to the sound of her voice. "What—what did you... Why would you... Why would you do that!" Kohana shrieks, spitting up small pieces of the plant. "Did you... Do you...! Stupid idiot!" Holding the wad of salivated mistletoe, Kohana flings it at Atropa. It hits the deity's dress, so it isn't too bad... If it would have hit her face, though, they would be fighting. And possibly blow up the entire house. "Mistletoe is poisonous, dummy! I can't believe you would do something like that, Atropa! After all the times we've spent together—who knew that you would try to kill me?"

"It's poisonous?" That wasn't a question. It was more like a delighted comment. If Atropa knew the stuff was poisonous, she would have done that a long time ago! But wait. Really. She wasn't trying to kill Kohana or anything like that. Concern starts to sink in and Atropa's eyes soften. Only for a second though. Just as fast as she started caring she stops caring and folds her arms. "Who hangs a poisonous plant in their house? If anyone's the idiot, it's you. Have fun dying." The Summoner of Time lets out a really loud growl, her nostrils flaring. So... Atropa's made it pretty clear that she doesn't give a damn about Kohana and her feelings, let alone the things that make her happy.

Okay, this means war then.

An all out war.

After she says her peace, of course. "Look Atropa, all of that stuff doesn't even matter anymore! You just poisoned the hell out of me, and now my day will be spent vomiting all over my floor. All day! And you won't even care! It's not even the mistletoe that'll make me vomit—I have to make myself vomit just to keep from not dying. I hope you're happy." She finishes her indigent speech with a quirk of her nose, noticing how bare her ceiling looks now without her pretty plant. It hadn't done anything to Atropa, honestly. She's always finding a way to destroy something, jeez.

"I didn't swallow it. _You _did."

"Do you force things into other people's throats often, Atropa?"

"Do you swallow everything anyone puts in your mouth? Wait. I forgot who I was talking to."

"Hey! That's such a low blow and not even called for! Take it back, Atropa!"

"Take what back? The mistletoe that _you_ swallowed?" The pinkett lets out a petite sigh, slumping her shoulders. "Well, I guess I should help you out, Wickedness. It won't take long for me to put my arm down your throat—it should be pretty widened out by now if you count all of those things you've let into it. Shame, really." That comment actually makes Kohana choke on air and she snarls, her pupils slitting. What's with Atropa today? It's like she's dedicated her entire life to making Kohana really, extremely upset. She doesn't usually talk like this, either. To top all of that off, Atropa only speaks in one of two languages: stoic and sarcastic. With what she said being in complete monotone, Kohana's being hit with a mixture of both at once.

"I wasn't even trying to!" Kohana complains, flailing her arms around. "You made me do it! And I don't even know if I ate any of the stuff, but I do know I was taking bites out of it and it's all your fault," she hisses under her breath. She even rolls her green eyes, too. "Let's see. If I start zoning out and talking about how we live in prehistoric times, then we'll know if I'm close to dying. I'd rather not go bulimic now."

"If you are going to _die_," Atropa says nice and slow. As if Kohana's a child and needs to be talked to like one. "Then you need to start purging. Makes sense, doesn't it?" In her apparently poisoned stupor, Kohana slams her fist into the pocket of her pants and pulls out another fresh piece of mistletoe, smiling big and bright as she pins it to the hook hanging from the ceiling. Suddenly Atropa doesn't feel amused anymore and she reverts right back to her pissy state.

The mistletoe has upset-Atropa-powers. It has been proven.

"There we go~!" Kohana sings, as if nothing bad ever happened. "Aww, look at the mistletoe~ It's so nice and lovely—!"

"—So why do you stand under it?" Is that Atropa interrupting her again? God! Why doesn't she just go and read a book or something? Kohana's finding it really hard to not pull the pinkett by her waist-length hair and throw her into a closet. She'd probably come right back out, but it's worth it. Dear God is it worth it. Quirking a brow, Kohana taps her fingers on her chin and sits down on the floor, her hands behind her back. This would be a journey. No doubt about it. Teaching Atropa about Christmas traditions is like teaching a tree how to sing. And we all know how much Atropa likes trees.

"Silly Ah~tropa!" Kohana coos, laughing under her breath. "You think that all you do is stand under such a wondrous thing? Though I'm sur~prised~ you at least know some piece to this puzzle~ And who said you hated Christmas?" Actually no one did. Kohana just assumed she hated Christmas. Atropa rolls her eyes, trying to take the Wickedness seriously. "Well guess what?" A smirk. A hand propped on the waist. "I'm not telling you what it's for. I'm just going to leave you in suspense because you deserve it for near killing me." It was extremely rare for Kohana to give up—especially a mind game like this one—but she noticed that Atropa liked playing mind games almost as much as she did. So she wouldn't give Alula the satisfaction of even trying to make her more upset than she already was. To say the least, Atropa was extremely impressed by Kohana's actions.

The Deity couldn't even argue with it. Kohana decided she didn't want to tell her what mistletoe was for. Touche. It was a mature decision that probably silenced all the bickering inbetween them at last. The flower fanatic decided it would be a good time to check on her cooling cookies, so she bounced to the kitchen, leaving Atropa all alone to herself. The pinkett stood in one place, contemplating the situation. Free? Of Kohana? This sounds like an almost dream! But... There's a small part of her that truly wants to learn the purpose of such an ugly decoration. Maybe standing under it brought good luck or a longer life span. It's probably something stupid like that, but she had to know for sure. So Atropa stands under the mistletoe for a while, expecting plants to sprout from around her.

Nothing happens.

It irritates her.

So she tails Kohana into the kitchen, appearing as if she's forgotten about their previous conversation. Oh, but it's there. The thought is still ripe in her mind. Being bombarded with the smell of red velvet black and white cookies. When Kohana baked, she didn't just bake the simple cookie recipes out of the cook book—those chocolate chip cookies and those simple sugar cookies... She had to go big. Her cookies looked fantastic—blood red coatings of soft, fluffy cake over oozing fudge and vanilla-flavored confections. Sure that Kohana's at least sensed her presence, Atropa saunters over to the purple-haired woman's stove and takes a one. The only problem with that is... Atropa's never been one to eat food. In general. Nada. Nothing. All she does is drink tea. She's a Deity—why would she need food, huh?

She's survived this long, and will keep on surviving.

Another reason why she really doesn't want to eat the cookie is because Kohana made it. She's always been cautious of anything Kohana makes because it's _Kohana_. However, she silences all of her disbelief and closes her eyes, cradling the cookie inbetween her fingers and taking a bite out of it. It's small. So it's a struggle for the pinkett to eat it slow enough to make an opinion on it. So far, the vanilla side is possibly one of the more subtle vanillas that she's ever tasted. That isn't really saying much though; Atropa has a stunted taste for vanilla since she only drinks tea. Of course. It doesn't overload her tongue, but what's strange about Kohana's cookie is that there's a strange warmth and natural taste to it.

And then there's the chocolate side.

To put it simply, it's delicious. It tastes like a homemade brownie. Or what Atropa thinks one would taste like. It's also got a subtle burnt taste, but Atropa likes almost-burnt things. Because they don't taste horribly sweet. Kohana glances at Atropa through the corner of her eye and smirks a little. "That's not a cookie, Ahtropa~!"

Almost instantaneously Atropa's gag reflexes kick in and her face contorts. You can hear her throat choking itself trying to get the baked good out of her body. Except Kohana starts cackling out loud, grabbing a bunch of cooking utensils and placing them in the sink. Whisks, spoons, knives, the works. Sensing something is wrong, Atropa narrows her eyes and glares holes into the back of her Kohana's head, her frown creasing deeper. "Very funny, Kohana," she mutters, wiping her lips of any stray cookie crumbs (and vomit). She should have known Kohana was going to do something like that. But that also meant that Kohana probably suspected Atropa was still thinking about how she shoved that piece of mistletoe down her throat.

Logically, it'd only make sense that she tried to kill Atropa!

By making poison of her own.

"Why are you so jumpy today~?" the purple-haired woman asks, smiling. Atropa can see every sharp tooth in her mouth. She really ought to file them down or people will start to think she's a monster. Oh wait. They already do. "And stop eating my cookies!" she demands in frustration, pouting and stomping her foot on the ground. "I_—sniff—_didn't even get to decorate them yet! You big fat glutton! You see food, and you eat it, huh~?" Atropa's not even going to say anything about eating the cookie to make Kohana happy. Not even going to go there. Why else would Atropa eat something that she made? But Atropa plays nice. She holds both of her red-violet, gloved hands behind her back, looking at Kohana pick up a single cookie and starting to examine it. In the most freaky way possible. She's running her finger along the ridges of it, pressing her full, glossy, pink lips up against it to evaluate the texture...

Atropa was surprised she didn't run it through her hair. It's strange, however. The icing is on the table and here Kohana is—fondling the cookie when she should be decorating it.

After placing her titillating lips around the edge of it—which earned her a mouth 'eww' from Atropa—Kohana, with striking accuracy, throws it at Atropa's forehead. Luckily the Deity saw something like this coming and she side steps out of the way. The impact the cookie made against the wall was... Painful! Extremely painful! It made the whole house shake, the paint on the walls chipping off. Hell, the wall even started to crumble—a circular imprint left in the wall. Needless to say, the pinkett is not amused, her pupils returning back to normal. She assumes her regular stance, folding her arms and giving Kohana a deadpan glance. "And you threw that at me, why?"

"Because," Kohana says under her breath, her face darkening. Nothing can be seen except the white of her teeth... That delirious smirk... "Because you're in here watching me for a reason Atropa, aren't you? Aren't you?" She's on to her? That fast? The deity's actually impressed. However, Atropa's a quicker liar than Kohana is and she closes her eyes defiantly, exhaling and then opening them again.

"I almost... Forgot what that stuff was called outside," the pinkett starts. "The snow. It's gorgeous." Seems legit. Kohana instantly snaps back into her regular ways and starts to nibble on a cookie, paying Atropa absolutely no attention at all. If she wants to talk about how pretty the snow is then she's absolutely obligated to do so. She just can't expect Kohana to pay attention to her while she's busy tending to her cookies. Looking irritated, Atropa finally decides that being cryptic isn't going to help anybody, so she hisses under her breath, making Kohana look at her. "Are you ever going to tell me what mistletoe is for?" Judging by Kohana crude smirk, Atropa already assumed she knew what the pinkett had followed her for.

Dammit.

She won.

This time.

Setting her icing bag down, Kohana walks past Atropa and then back into the living room so that they can actually see the strange plant while she comes up with her amazing explanation. It better be amazing, or Atropa's going to bust a blood vessel. "The state of rapture! A bodily meeting of passion~ Under this pretty plant is where worlds start to be reduced to nothing but fragments of your skin~! Your eyes, the curves you possess—my lips on the small of your back and the nape of your pretty, peachy neck, or pretty much evaah-reee-where~! Moments like these where I capture your skin with my photographic fingers of pure kinetic lust~!" Oh great! Now Kohana's talking nonsense Atropa could never hope to understand. Everything that comes out of her mouth is pure insanity!

What the hell is she talking about? And it doesn't help that Kohana pulls Atropa close, the two of them standing under the benign green growth. Atropa's so painfully close to Kohana that she can feel the tiny, tiny hairs on the Wickedness' cheeks brushing up against her own. And she can smell the velvet, black and white cookie underneath her breath. This is about to get unbearable _real _quick. "Ahhtropa~!" she coos in that drawling, sultry voice of hers. "My heart feels like winter when you're not around~! Cold, freezing and in the middle of my Christmas spirit. I guess sometimes I need you around~! It's just that the inside of me feels so old and exhausted—overused. Because when you're here, there's Christmas in me, and when we are together I am renewed~"

She takes it another step forward and glides her lips across the bridge of Atropa's nose—and really, Atropa just stands there.

How odd.

Ever since she got back from the store, she's taken everything Kohana's dished at her. Her tamtrums, her wad of spit-mistletoe... Everything. When normally she'd stick her foot up Kohana's backside and call it a day. Curse out her name a few times... Maybe even disappear altogether and go somewhere Kohana can't find her. Atropa's done none of that. All she's done is just stood there and took it. Like she's doing now—letting Kohana spiral her lithe fingers in Atropa's wavy, carnation pink hair—letting her caress the sides of her face with loving, soft hands.

"Christmas—my Christmas isn't about fake, prosthetic packages laced in ribbons or candy canes and dancing ballerinas or the fake lights sending a house ablaze in the nighttime sky, Atropa~! It's not when the house is all warm or my delicious cookies! It's so simple, and it could be so much better if it were me and you laying naked on your unmade bed as everyone else opened their presents downstairs~ Let me touch you, Atropa, make you touch me, I_—ahh~!—_breathe into your neck, the spot just below your ear..." She takes great liberty in pushing her pink hair out of the way just so she can press her thumbs behind them. "I want to take you places we both have never seen~!"

"So are you going to tell me?"

Oh yeah, right. Gah. Curse her being so abrupt and unfeeling with her question. How can Atropa just dismiss everything Kohana worked so hard on building? It makes her want to cry, but Kohana takes a step back and narrows her eyes, scowling a little. "Come on Kohana, tell me what happens under the mistletoe. Hurry up already."

"Fine!" Kohana replies. Why, it almost sounds like she's disappointed. "This is what people do under this stupid thing. They're supposed to kiss, Atropa! Both mad with lust and lacklustre~ And I'm not talking about one of those family kisses; a real, down and dirty kiss with the eyes closed~ Ahh~ It's like a dream come true~ With your drowsy, pink eyelashes fluttering close and your hands placed on all of the curves you can find until you twist them in hair even longer than your own~"

And then Atropa attacks. Everything goes completely silence, and as soon as Kohana feels her fingers on her face she lets out a dying gasp, only for it to be woefully sucked up by Atropa's mouth. It's immediate and painfully obvious that Kohana was not ready for—and has no idea what to do in this sort of situation. First her eyes rolled back to her head and then she closed her eyes shut, the initial shock making it hard for her to keep them open. So she closes them. So she won't have to look at the_—_! Kohana indirectly starts to writhe underneath Atropa's lips, still trying to get over the fact that she not only kissed her, but she _mashed_ her lips into her face, like she's done this before.

She had to have!

Kisses hungry and tense like this one just doesn't happen on its own!

But Atropa said that she... That she never...! This is messy, desperate, too warm for Kohana's own tastes and dammit she's bruising her lips! She can hear her gasping against their lip-lock, feel the tendrils of Atropa's hair against her face... Kohana notices her hands clutching the her sides through her wooly attire. And when Atropa's done—listening to Kohana pant and marveling at the swollen wetness of her lips, Atropa props a hand on her waste and then puts on a look of blank amusement.

If that's even possible.

Blank amusement.

"I already know what happens," Atropa acquiesces, tapping her index finger on her chin. "Pretty idiotic, if you ask me."

"You what?"

Even though Atropa never smiles, she cracks a half one just for Kohana. No one will ever believe just how red her face is—how fluster and awkward Kohana's just been reduced to. It's apparent Kohana doesn't know how to act towards affection, which is why she's standing ill at ease, shaking a bit. It's hilarious to see her rocking back and forth, knitting her fingers together under her flushed face, especially when she was talking all of that garbage just a few seconds ago. "You're all talk and no bite, Kohana," Atropa mutters, a hint of playfulness in her voice. "Next time you shouldn't assume things about me."

"But I, but you—!"

"Do you _want_ me to kiss you again?" Atropa warns, quirking a brow. The reaction she gets from Kohana is priceless. She's acting exactly like a child does when told they're about to get a shot from the doctor. Scrunching up her shoulders and recoiling, Kohana takes several step backs, her emerald eyes the size of saucers. "Stay away from me!" is what she would have screamed at Atropa, but she was so paralyzed at the thought of going through that traumatic experience again that she didn't want to chance anything. "We're still underneath this leathery-leaved parasitic plant that grows on apple, oak, and other broad leaf trees and bears white, glutinous berries in the winter." So Atropa knew!

She knew what it was!

She knew all along!

Frowning deeply, Kohana points at Atropa, albeit shaking really bad, trembling as she backs into a chair. "You liar—!"

_Step._

"—You dirty little deceiver—!"

_Step._

"—I'll have your head—!"

_Step._

"—Stay away from me!" Kohana finally shrieks, flipping over said chair and falling head-first into the cushion. Noticing her 'vulnerable position', she quickly balls up in the seat and picks up the pillow, holding it over her head. "I'll attack you, I swear I will, I'll...!" Too amused to stop her tirade, Atropa raises a brow again at her and takes another small step forward. The purple-haired woman takes the initiative—she starts throwing things at her like the remote control for the TV, bowls of candy, and then eventually the_ entire TV..._

It's interesting to know, Atropa finds, that when Kohana is embarrassed like this her aim is all out of whack. She hits everything but Atropa—even the flimsy piece of poisonous mistletoe hanging from the ceiling. Oh joy.

Noticing her archenemy is down of the count, Atropa's expressions completely changes and she snarls, stomping the dear life out of it and cursing it out with words Kohana could never hope to understand. When the mistletoe is only a pile of crunched up leaves and berries, the pinkett looks back up at Kohana, who's peering at her from over the back of the seat she's in. Really, the only thing you can see is the top of Kohana's purple hair and her beady little, dilated green eyes. Hissing, Atropa turns back around on her heels, making her way towards the kitchen.

"Merry Christmas, _Kohana_."

The thing is though—that didn't sound very merry. It sounded life threatening! Every word loaded with poison... Truly this woman was Scrooge incarnate. Truly. And... It's not like she didn't already poison Kohana... "Oh God it's true!" Kohana says, cowering in response to Atropa's heels hitting the oak of her floor. "She really...! There's...! Gaaaah! All the signs are here! Who am I dealing with? What is this? What is that? What am I? What is reality~!" Finding no other way to express her terror, Kohana slams the pillow over her head and tries her hardest to hide from Atropa.

Maybe if she doesn't notice her, she'll go away.

Some Christmas this'll be. Great. Now she has to spend it with some psycho mistletoe molester.


End file.
